Slave of the god of Mischief
by OpaliteMoon
Summary: Loki gets bored being locked up and left all on his own, so when he gets in the mood, he plucks an unsuspecting human from Earth. What, he has all sorts of weird powers, you thought this wasn't one? You know you've been waiting for this. Loki x OC pairing. Wouldn't have posted this without my friend's support- shoutout to Thomas and Connor!


I opened my eyes, and I had no idea where I was.

I didn't feel subdued, dozy or hurt in the slightest. I was more aware than if I'd just been asleep. I simply felt disorientated, because I didn't remember falling into this enchanted slumber I'd just awoken from, and I didn't know this room.

A glance around it told me it was simple. Like some frame of ancient minimalism- for as the décor, the books, and the (few) furnishings smacked of some age long past, it was still tasteful and somehow modern. A golden glow was cast around the room. However, it had an air of...frustration. It was hollow, and resented. I'd always been told I was bright and intuitive, and I trusted my instinct. This was not a home. It was a residence- and a begrudging one at that. Some may have called it a prison. So, that was established.

As alienated as I was, for some unknown factor, I was unafraid. That was, until I made to rise off the floor and further explore my surroundings. In doing so, I found I was trapped. Bound to a mirror I was slumped against.

Then, the panic began to rise in me.

At first, I convulsed and fought, battling my bindings, but to no avail. I couldn't even see them, arms tied behind me as they were, but they were not coarse or unpleasant rope. It was some slippery fabric. But it was strong, and I couldn't see it or locate a knot at all. However, I found I could slowly work the bindings up the mirror itself, so, slowly and deliberately I eased them up the length of the mirror until I was stood upright. And then, I saw him. And he spoke.

"Well done, mortal. It only took you, let's see...twenty of your earth minutes to merely get to your feet". His tone was a smug purr, deep, and a little unsettling.

I couldn't see him, at first. But then I spied him, sitting in make-shift throne, directly opposite me. I had no idea how I had missed him- even from the floor, he would have been in plain sight. It was a confusing and bizarre reality.

I looked him up and down. He was pale, and his features were sharp- his face was not cruel or sage looking, though. He appeared perfectly- mischievous, was the only word for it. His expressions were in constant flux, between smirking, wide-eyed curiosity, smugness, and something I could only describe as hunger. His body, from what I could see of it, was lithe but strong. His taut muscles strained against his military-cum-legendary clothing. He was not un-good looking. I scolded myself for weighing up my captor. This was not the time or place, however much human instinct urges one to check out every new specimen.

I felt I should be terrified, scared, but for some unknown reason, again, I was not.

All this analysis had taken place in a mere few seconds, but he noticed it. It brought on a sly half-smile.

"Do you like what you see, mortal?," he posed, gesturing to his physique as he stood up from his throne.

My mouth was dry. "I-".

He was pacing towards me. "Well, do you?".

His eyes locked with mine, and suddenly, the dam of terror that had been building in me broke and flooded into my mind. I had nothing to say.

His eyes flashed with triumph.

"So easy to control your emotions, you puny scum. You, are nothing. I don't know why I bother, it's too easy to play this game".

He grabbed my chin, and I gasped in a small intake of breath.

"...your eyes, so wide with _fear..._".

He let go and turned from me, hands behind his back, pacing away slowly.

Then, suddenly, he lurched back towards me, and again, I shied back in shock, pressing myself to the mirror. He laughed, one small, derisive note, and then took my face in both of his palms. His hands were soft, his fingers slender and smooth in their actions, as he held my face intimately close to his own. My heart pounded like a drum. I felt his cool breath on my lips as he next spoke.

"I could go ahead and have my wicked way with you, and you'd be too weak and fragile to do a thing".

I swallowed.

I was somewhere I didn't know, with a stranger who seemed like he was about to rape me. I was terrified, cowering in fear, and completely unsure of what to do, when a passion rose in me.

'Why are you just sitting there, you fool!" I chided to myself, "Tell him you're not scared, you're more than this!".

And so I did.

"I wouldn't let you touch a hair on my body, you sick bastard!". I spat at him, square in the face.

For a split second, he appeared shocked. Then, angry. Then, amused. He backed up again, and as he wiped my spittle from his face, he tasted it on his fingers.

"Oh, I do like a bit of fire in them. Tell me...," he began, moving towards me, "Would you really not let me even touch you?".

"No!," I hissed.

He was close again, too close.

"Could you really do anything, if I tried?".

"I would wrestle and scream and bite to the end. I don't want you and I DON'T consent so LET ME GO!".

He chuckled, darkly. His bright eyes bored into my own.

"You would never, want me to touch you?".

"No" I stated, more quietly. The fight in me was fading, and his new demeanour told me this was the prelude to something.

"That sounds like a challenge to me," he purred, his jaw brushing my cheek, as he moved down to my neck. Suddenly, his lips ceased to speak as they planted soft, cold kisses along my jawline. I shivered. It was jarring, and terrifying...but it was electric.

"Stop..." I began.

"Oh, shush. You know you enjoy it".

He began to suck on my neck, and lick it. His tongue caressed the most sensitive parts of my neck in the most erotic way possible. I was supposed to resist, something in me was telling me. I was supposed to be struggling and screaming and...biting...

As he bit my neck, I bit my own lip, holding back a moan of desire. He smelt so good. How did he smell so good?

"S-stop...".

"There's no use struggling, woman," he whispered, his breath tickling the nape of my neck. He pushed me backwards, and suddenly, there was no mirror anymore. Either this was some strange dream, or this man, had powers of some sort. Both were bizarre, but in this moment, I just wanted to experience and feel his motions.

He moved his lips upwards, towards mine, and silenced my soft moans with his tongue. It was again, electric and sensual, his tongue inside my mouth, both of us panting as we passionately kissed.

He drew back, lips wet with saliva.

"Still adamant for me to leave you be, hmm?," he teased.

I was dazed and a little drunk on his kisses.

"Yes. No. I-...don't touch me!".

He gave me a doubting pout.

"Please...?," I ventured uncertainly.

He paid no attention to my plaintive and half-hearted objections, and instead recommenced kissing me, this time his hands sliding up the fabric of my top. He sought out my exposed breasts, and oh, how exciting and sordid it was for them to be out and have him be transfixed by them. First, he felt them, groping me, pressing against me, growling a deep and satisfied "Mmh". Then, he played with them, thumbs circling over my nipples and sending ripples of pleasure through me. I could feel his member, hard and erect, pressing against my own pulsing groin.

He slithered down my body, placing his mouth now on my breasts, repeating the same motions on my neck here instead. The effect was instantaneous, and I gasped then moaned a deep, long moan. He snickered, and smirked at me, before using his tongue to flick over my hard nubs of nipples, causing me to bite my lip to hold back the sounds of pleasure that would have otherwise escaped them.

His mouth busy, his hands now began to move down, pulling down the fabric of my pants from the inside, exposing my underwear. My breath hitched in my throat for whatever he was about to do. Then, his fingers, oh his cool, dexterous fingers, found their way into my pants, then inside me. He knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers played with the sensitive bud between my thighs, rubbing and caressing in a circular motion, then stroking inside of my very body, all whilst his mouth was busy on my breasts.

I was being rather loud now, panting and moaning and squealing. I'd forgotten now all about escaping, about anything else. I was in absolute heaven, when his mouth moved to between my legs. He bit and caressed the inside of my thighs with his mouth as he did my neck, leaving me a shivering wreck, teasing me for what was to come. I waited with baited breath, and then-

Oh!

My already slick inner parts were suddenly being eaten out by his expert tongue. I cocked my pelvis against his jaw involuntarily, just adjusting for the best feeling, and slowly thrusted up and down. He flitted between flicking motions, sucking, licking, rubbing...it was just...so good. The pleasure built and built in waves, until I was moaning like a whore, rubbing my own nipples to compliment his input, and then, suddenly, the world came crashing down around me in absolute and pure, sensual bliss, my hips thrusting into his fingers (imbedded deep inside me) as I came.

After, I lay exhausted and panting on the floor. He played with my wet clit and brought on a few last, involuntarily thrusts and squeals, and then watched me aptly.

"Now, since I won that challenge, I believe I'm owed a favour myself".


End file.
